


Sunlight

by nic



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-17
Updated: 2014-12-17
Packaged: 2018-03-01 21:34:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2788526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nic/pseuds/nic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maxim loves Tatiana.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sunlight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [princessdario](https://archiveofourown.org/users/princessdario/gifts).



> Thank you to Alice M. for the beta!

Max took a deep breath, his heart hammering wildly in his chest. This was it. The moment, where everything depended on not only his actions, but the actions of the tiny blonde woman he had wrapped in his arms. He swallowed to steady his nerves. He'd been on the world stage hundreds of time; performing in front of millions of people was almost second nature to him, and yet he could still be rattled to the core.

Tanya turned to him, giving him an impish smile. "What are you waiting for?" her eyes seemed to ask him.

He knew her so well. In some ways, it felt like he'd always known her. He couldn't remember a time in his life without knowing Tatiana was in the world. For so many years she'd been the elusive figure, the one he couldn't have. His dream skating partner, and if he were honest with himself, he'd always been a little bit in love with her too.

Of course, Max had put that aside when they began skating together. The planets aligned, the stars pretty much collided and went nova the moment they skated as one. Magic, breathed alive, even during that first tryout skate together. When Max had been tentative and hesitant and Tatiana (before she was Tanya) so seemingly poised and together. Graceful, exquisite, untouchable.

And Max knew his reputation had preceded him. His temper still got the best of him sometimes, but not towards Tanya. Never at Tanya. He loved her too much for that.

She spun in his arms, ever so graceful. So delicate and light, he sometimes suspected that if he didn't hold on to her, she'd just float away.

"Do you ever think this is a dream?" he asked her softly. They had a little time.

"It is a dream!" she replied lightly. "The very best."

His life had been hard, but hers, so much worse. She'd moved from country to country, given up so much in pursuit of her skating dream. The life of a gifted skater was never stable, and all the worse when various countries were vying for your talents. Now she lived in Russia, with him, far from family and the places she'd grown up, but she never seemed to mind. You had to be made of strength to succeed as a skater, and to be world champion - Olympic champion - took obsession.

It was little wonder so many skaters ended up dating each other. Who else would understand the drive, the relentless focus that was necessary to succeed? The hours upon hours required to perfect one move that would form less than a second of an intricate program?

Skaters became each other's families, out of necessity, which caused Max to feel even more blessed that he had been gifted with not only a talented, but very beautiful, warm-hearted woman. She was his sunlight and when she was happy, it was like the entire world was in Spring bloom.

Tanya turned that dazzling smile to him again as the first strains of the music started. It was time. As one, they leaned in, the softest push, and then they were stroking across the ice, the sounds of their blades barely audible.

They gathered speed, rounding the corner, the pattern one they'd traced a thousand times over. Arms extended, toes pointed when lifted off the ice; it was second nature to him now but Max could still hear the echoes of his coach's voice. "Reach higher, but do not forget to look at her. She is your queen, your flower, every look must show your love!"

That part really wasn't difficult. In fact, when he and Tanya had first admitted their feelings to each other, realising that the attraction ran much deeper than hoped for, and that it might actually be love, the whole world had been able to see it. They'd cuddled on the podium at least once. (And been admonished for that by the Russian Federation, even though they'd argued that it was just their joy at winning gold shining through.)

Those heady months, through Skate America, then the Cup of Russia, the Grand Prix Final, and another National Title, how wonderful they'd been. When they'd comprehended that yes, they could win - and win everything! - it felt like anything was possible.

He took Tanya in his arms and lifted. So tiny, so light, and her body felt absolutely perfect to him. Max could barely recall skating with another partner, now that he had the right one it was inconceivable that he could skate with anyone else. And then, using their joined momentum, he let her go, throwing her high and far. Her eyes were fixed to his as she landed, an easy jump for them and she smiled brilliantly.

The roar in his ears could have been remembered applause or perhaps it was just the wind. Faster and faster down the ice, jumping alone yet in unison. Perfect form.

The body remembered, even when the muscles were unwilling.

It wouldn't always be like this, he knew. Someday, there would be simple jumps, no more triple throws, but if dreams came true, they would have grandchildren by that point, little ones to continue the tradition. He imagined creating a skating dynasty, the children of Maxim and Tatiana, unbeatable.

As they were right now.

Time to lift her high, holding her with what seemed the lightest of grips - only one hand - but knowing she was secure. He would never let her fall. She knew that.

So much trust between them, even before falling in love. Or perhaps their great friendship, their deep and abiding affection, and their perfect synergy, was the actual process of falling in love and by the time the feelings were admitted aloud, it had already happened.

They spun, as the music rose to a crescendo. She was a blur of motion before his eyes and yet in his mind, he could see her face perfectly. The soft breath of first light in the morning, with her face pressed against the pillow, lashes against her cheeks, as she dreamed of who knew what. Laughter over breakfast, green health drinks as she playfully bumped her hip against his.

Happy times at the rink, for even when she fell, she generally brushed it off, determined to keep going, to work harder and faster. Max was the one who would get angry and frustrated but she would place a gentle hand on his arm and remind him that it wasn't worth shouting over.

Life, those moments, were so precious.

And then there were the nights when he took her in his arms, and tumbled her into bed. Sometimes their muscles were too sore to do anything but lie there and embrace, but other nights, there remained the low-level hum of their connection. A frisson of sorts, that soon turned into ardent desire. He would ghost his lips on her hand, up her arm, making slow, inexorable progress towards her lips. Her body would respond in kind, pressing her hips towards his, even more connected than when they were skating.

Those moments, they were for just the two of them. No world watching, and the magic remained. He would cling to her, learning every curve of her body, and she would whisper his name.

“My Maxim.”

The last moves on the ice, the final steps in the intricate dance. When asked for the inspiration for this program, they could never tell the truth, because it came from their hearts. It was their dance, of love, of commitment, of wonder, and of those deep nights when Max lost himself pressed against her skin.

One final twist, and he pulled her close, hands on her face. The music ended.

And there was nothing but silence, the arena hushed, nothing but the sound of their breathing.

There were tears in Tanya’s eyes.

“What is it, my love?” he asked.

She looked around, gestured to the vast ice. “This night, this dance, it was our last one.”

“What?”

The question remained in her eyes. “Our last one,” she repeated. “Why else would you bring me here?”

There was no audience. The arena was silent. Empty. They had skated to memories of glory, memories of crowds, yet tonight, they skated alone.

His heart pounding in his chest, Max knew it was time for the truth. “I brought you here, Tanya, to ask you a question.”

She gasped, already knowing, because of course they had spoken about this. Joked about American customs and big romantic gestures, and in the end she had told him to ask however, whenever he wanted, because the answer was already yes.

Kneeling on the ice, he pulled the ring that was hidden in a tiny pouch beneath his waistband. He didn’t need to say the words but he wanted to, anyway.

“Tatiana, I have loved you from the moment I met you.” She was smiling brilliantly, one hand reaching out to him, looking for that ever-present connection. “Ты выйдешь за меня замуж?”

She breathed, “Yes,” as she kissed him. Here, in this place, on the ice that brought them together, the ice that would always be part of their lives.

The ice that was forever his home, because Tanya was there too.

 


End file.
